Turning Tides
by Fr33kinMatt
Summary: In an alternate story, where the 75th Hunger Games are not centered around victors in the arena, a young career tribute from District 4 goes through a journey of self-discovery, pain, and emotional transformation in a quarter quell that not only tests his ferocity, but his compassion as well.
1. Chapter 1 - The Training Center

Chapter 1 – The Training Center

As the elevator doors open, Aqua and I step into the large room that will become our final training grounds. "Don't worry. Everyone in here is scared," I whisper to her. I'm not sure if I can even sense fear in her. All I know is that I need to calm my own nerves. "Not him," she stutters, looking across the room at one of our fellow tributes. There, at one of the weapon stations, stands a terrifyingly large boy. He must be at least 6'3" and he looks to be built like a tank. His blonde hair has darkened from the sweat he's worked up from training, the muscles in his arms defined and rippling. If I had to guess, he's been here for at least an hour prior to our arrival. Everything about him is intimidating, right down to his sculpted jawline and strikingly masculine demeanor. His eyes look determined and his gaze is ruthless. Aqua gives me a playful shove when she notices I've been staring for a bit too long. Shoving her back, I can feel myself blushing, but quickly recover. It comes to no surprise to me when I notice that the number on his tightly fit shirt was one. He's a career tribute, like Aqua and me. This became apparent as we watch him hurl multiple spears directly into a training dummy from over twenty yards. "Don't worry. Like I said on the train, I'll protect you for as long as I possibly can," I try to reassure her.

The other tributes are not very talkative. Although, when you know you might be dead in a week, there isn't much point in making friends. They'll only hold you back. Despite knowing we both can't make it out alive, Aqua and I stick together for training. We have agreed that one of us has to win, and that we'll each do everything in our power to make sure that happen.

First up is the ranged weapon training. We both take pride in being two of the best ranged fighters back home. My strengths shine when I have a knife in my hand. I've got an amazing arm. My throwing is top tier. It's what I'm best at- staying silent and taking things out quickly- I don't like prolonging the agony of a kill. I'm also an amazing fisherman and hunter. I had taken down sharks bigger than these kids. After all, that's what gave me my name.

Back in District 4, those of us chosen to go into senior training are given a nickname sometime in our first year. The name represents an event that all of the trainers associate us with. My birth name is Matthew Calisto. This changed immediately one remarkably sunny day, about halfway through our first year of training. Aqua, myself, and another training candidate, Blythe, were taking a break from practicing with tridents to dive and explore some of the coral reefs. Being underwater has always been an amazing experience for me. That day was especially calm. The shortage of fish should have alerted us to some kind of danger. But none of us paid much attention to the fish, or lack thereof, that day. In a world of cerulean waves and reefs, larger predators do not become visible until they are within your general vicinity. We know to be careful and stick together, but we all felt particularly adventurous that day, and we split up to swim around the giant coral structures.

As I was swimming around one of the reefs, I notice Blythe frantically swimming towards the surface. I thought she might just want to go back to the training center. When I saw the piercing blue of the ocean fade into a light crimson that I knew something was wrong. I glided through the water, around the reef, to come face to face with a fully grown mako shark, with a stream of blood trailing behind it. I was quick to reach for my knife, and as the shark swam past me, grazing my flesh with it's rough skin, I thrust the blade into its side and it's forward movement does the rest. My blade exits from the tail of the shark, and another, wider, trail of blood follows. I grab the shark as well as Aqua and head for the surface to find a rescue boat was there to help her with the wound. It was only a small bite on her left leg, but it created uproar at the training center. From that day on, the name granted to me was Mako Calisto. The swift and cunning shark is a perfect representation for who I am and how I fight. That mako might have been the first shark I killed to defend a friend, but it was nowhere near the last. But sharks didn't have weapons, and they didn't have the incentive of fame and fortune to drive them. I may have been able to take them out, but the kids in this room with me are a whole different story. They're not going to go down without a fight. So, while I have the chance to, I'm prepared to show them who they're dealing with.

I grab a handful of knives and take a step up to the white line etched on the floor marked with twenty-five yards. Strapping the knives onto my belt, I whistle loudly, causing an echo throughout the center. I want the other tributes to see this. I want them to know that just because I'm small for a Career, I'm no one to mess with. I get a feel for each blade, determining the force and angle I'll need for my throws. Lightly grasping each knife, I swiftly hurl them towards the training dummies, in a swirling dance of blades. They fly through the air so fast that only their rotations, cutting through the air, can be heard throughout the room. The knives aren't visible until the dummies have knives protruding from multiple places: their hearts, temples, and jugulars. The room is silent, aside from a couple of small gasps from the other tributes. I feel the right side of my mouth curve up into the condescending smirk I've now become known for in the Capitol. I turn around and turn my head towards the gamemakers. My whistle had drawn their attention in as well. Many give affirming nods and chatter with their colleagues with what seem to be impressed looks. With a slight bow, I turn away and walk towards the dummies and retrieve my knives.

Aqua, on the other hand, has a very different approach. She steps up to the archery station. Being her training partner for the past six years has given me an uncanny familiarity with her abilities. Many of the other tributes look oddly at her. A few murmur to each other, I hear a scoff. They're underestimating her, which is her greatest strength. I wouldn't think Aqua would head to grab a bow so quickly. She never gives away her strengths right away. I knew she had a plan. She looks towards me and gives a slight wink, which always meant she was up to something incredible. It's just that, the word incredible would be me underestimating her as well. Aqua, bow in hand, making her way to the obstacle course, puts her hands to her lips and whistles loudly, just as I had. She looks back towards me and sticks her tongue out. I give a breathy chuckle and stop myself in the middle of a smile; I still have my confident and apathetic vibe to withhold. By the time I realize she's at the obstacle course, ready to dodge trainers swinging bats at her, she's already on top of the starting platform.

She is better than even I remember her being with that bow. From the obstacle course, about thirty yards from the projectile dummies, she shoots six arrows directly into each of them, while evading the swinging swords of the trainers. As she jumps between platforms, dodging swords, I can almost make out a smirk on her face, similar to the one I made.

At that point, it hits me. She isn't trying to prove anything to the other tributes. She's trying to one-up me. Her movements are so graceful, exactly how I remember her being all those years of training. We had both trained under one of the most skilled Career assassins in our district. She and I know how to make our way around without causing a panic, sometimes not getting noticed at all. We're so much alike that people often ask if she's my twin sister. Being best friends before we were chosen to train for the games was a breath of fresh air in training. We always have each other's back, but I can't help but worry about how long our friendship will hold itself together in the arena.

She hops down from the platform and places the bow back on its rack, across the room. The other tributes follow her with wide eyes. Some filled with pure disgust, others with subtle admiration for her abilities. She just set the bar for how skilled the rest of us need to be. I can't help but gulp down an inkling of fear myself. I've never seen her do anything that impressive.

"Let the games begin," I hear a girl from District 2 say, under her breath.


	2. Chapter 2 - Round One

I wake up to the sounds of crashing whitecaps and seagulls. For a minute it's as if I had fallen asleep on the beach back home. I must have left my room's wall projector turned on when I went to bed last night. It's the only part of home I have, even if it's just a screen. I clear my head and stand up, ready for the challenge ahead. I'm going to win the games this year and bring honor to my district. I'm going to return and be a hero back in Four.

I step into the elevator with Aqua. Our usual friendly banter seems forced today. Could this be it? Is this the moment when our friendship fades and we become rival tributes? It has to happen sooner or later if either one of us expects to get out there. To my surprise, she grabs my hand, as if it was instinctual by now. I can feel her shaking more than she ever has. I try to console her, but I realize that I'm shaking too. Only one, if either, of us will make it out of that arena alive at all. If it came down to it, we'd be forced to go at each other's throats just to make it out of there as a victor. I don't want to think about that. I feel malevolent and disgusting for thinking about it, but, at that time, I hope that if we lose in the arena, that it'll be at the hands of a tribute from another district. I couldn't bear to kill my best friend. I just hope she feels the same.

As we enter the hovercraft that will take us to the arena, I can't help but avoid eye contact with the other tributes. Locked into our seats, trackers in our arms, we're flown to our respective tubes, where we'll rise up into the arena. My stylist is there to dress me for the games, but I don't see anything that looks very useful to surviving. She dresses me in, what felt like, something I'd wear back in district four on a leisurely day of training. I'm put into a tight fitting tank top, and diving pants. There's no topical coverage or weather resistant gear at all. I'm barefoot.. but why? Surely I would need some sort of footwear in the arena.

"30 seconds," my heart pounds as the voice crackles over the speaker, echoing through the room.

This is it. Slowly I step into my tube and it quickly closes behind me. I am trapped. I feel like a prisoner, not a deadly career, not even a human. I'm now a caged animal being set lose. I'm hit with an overwhelming sense of adrenaline and fear. In a minute, I'll be in a battlefield with twenty-three other kids, who won't hesitation in seeing to it that I end up dead.

"10 seconds."

The floor of the tube begins to rise. I get my final glimpse of my stylist as she mouths _good luck_ and blows me a kiss. My back stiffens, and I prepare to run. I know I have to be fast to get myself to a few packs of knives. Once I get those, the bloodbath will truly begin. It'll be smooth sailing. I'm extremely quick. Maybe I could grab a bow for Aqua, too. I'm sure she'd appreciate having her weapon of choice from the start of the battle..

No. I have to focus on my survival. Besides, Aqua is much swifter than I am. She'll have no trouble obtaining a bow for herself. I have to make sure that I was set and prepared to hunt.

The tube comes out above ground, and as my eyes adjust to the light, I get a good look at the arena. What I see confuses me. Every year I've watched the games, the tributes would all rise together and there would be a huge battlefield. Last year's games were held in a remote forest, and the year before that was held on the side of a volcanic mountain. This wasn't anything like I had expected.

We're in a recreational center. There are three pools, a few diving boards, and a gigantic set of bleachers ran across both sides of the center. It's a big room, but it nowhere near big enough to be the setting of the games. Maybe there's more to it. Maybe we're meant to leave the center after the initial mess at the cornucopia- If I could find the cornucopia. I frantically look around for it but it's nowhere in sight. All I see is glistening from the bottom of the pools. The supplies! Every single item is at the bottom of these ten-foot-deep swimming pools. We have to swim for them. This gives me little relief, but it gives me a tiny bit of confidence. I know that Aqua and I are excellent divers. We were paid to do it back in our district… Aqua!

I look around to find her, to see a familiar, friendly face. I need to see her. I need to catch a glimpse of her smile, reassuring me that no matter what happens, we'll still be friends. I can't find her. I can barely find anyone. The only other tributes I can see are standing on the sides of the other two pools in the room. The boy from district 8 stands at the far pool, and the girl from district 12 is facing the middle pool. Where are the others? Could there be more rooms in the facility that they've been put into? No time to think about that now, I need those supplies.

"18, 17, 16..."

I prepare myself to dive right into the pool. The jump is about 6 feet in front of the platform I'm on. I had made bigger dives back home.

"11, 10, 9, 8..."

This is it. _Sink or swim, Mako. _Time to make everyone back in district four proud, right from the start.

"4, 3, 2, 1.."

I waste no time with my jump. I dive head first into the pool, quickly swimming to the bottom. I search the backpacks at the deepest end first. There is an excess amount of chlorine in the water, making it difficult to see anything. I feel around the bags, hoping one of them has what I need. My hands glide around what feel like a sword. After opening a few more bags, I find three that have different types of knives, even accidentally cutting the top of my hand on one. The chlorine in the water stings the fresh wound, but I have no time for pain. I grab the bags and swim for the surface. When my head reaches the open air, I look around and saw only rippling waters in the other two pools. The other tributes are still submerged, searching for their supplies. I decide to take care of the other tributes before these ones. I want to take out the more dangerous competitors before I deal with the weaklings of the pack.

I run straight for the doors of the facility, planning on bursting through the doors, knives drawn to target, and kill, any tribute that gets in my way. I meet the door at full force, only to be hit with a sharp pain in my shoulder. The door isn't budging. It won't even move an inch. I examine the door and quickly realize that the doors to the facility have been welded shut. There is no escaping this room. How is this possible? There has to be a way out. How am I supposed to get to the other tributes?!

There is no more time to think. I hear a swift sound of metal colliding to my left, and I know that this isn't the time to think things through. I turn to see a spear bounce off of the wall, two feet from my head. I have to move. I turn and run towards the bleachers on my right. I don't know where to go. I was trained to assassinate. I'm smaller than the boy from 8. He might not be a very accurate thrower, but he can't miss forever with those spears. I need to find somewhere to hide, fast.

The diving boards! I quickly climb up the ladder, barely dodging and ducking away from more spears being thrown at me. They want me taken out. I haven't heard any cannons from the other tributes deaths yet, wherever they were. If he succeeds with those spears, I'll be the first to die. He wants the satisfaction of killing a career, I can see it in his menacing glare, but this career has other plans.

Once I make it to the top of the board. I put my diving to the real test. I thought back to Aqua in the training center; how she so beautifully took out the training dummies while jumping between platforms, dodging blades being swung at her. I spring off of the board and, in midair, take aim. Grabbing two knives from my pack, I throw my first as he let a spear fly through the air. The two weapons crash together with a loud metallic clang. The second knife is set in my right hand and I fling it towards him, a second before I crash into the water.

From the bottom of the pool, I recognized what's spreading through the pool right away. Back in my district, after my first year of training, I was in charge of keeping sharks away from the divers who were just learning how to swim with their gear. The tint of dark red is all too familiar to me, having fought off countless attacking sharks with a knife or trident. As I swim towards the surface, I see his lifeless body sinking to the bottom of the pool. The knife I had thrown landed directly in the center of his eyes, an immediate death. I wish Aqua was here to see it and revel in this moment of animalistic survival with me, but I have no for petty fantasy right now. There is still the girl from 12 to deal with.

When I come to the surface, I am met with a sword being swung towards my face. Luckily, the girl from 12 has no real training with the weapon, and misses by a rather large distance. I have to do something before she gets the chance to swing it and make contact. Using the smallest knife from my pack, I dive towards the side of the pool and catch the back of her leg, severing the tendon above her heel. She drops the sword on the ground and falls to her side, writhing in pain. I step out of the pool, kick the sword into the water, and crouched beside her.

"I'll be swift, darling. Just close your eyes."

She closes them, like I requested, and shallowly whispers _I'm sorry. _I can only assume she is speaking to the people back in her district- I know I'd be ashamed to die in the initial fighting, so what little sympathies I allow myself to have, are with her.I grabbed the largest knife I have and in a singular motion, toss it at her neck. It impales her throat, cutting through her spinal cord and killing her.

I take a step back from her body. Using one of the knives in my pack, I cut two lines across the top of my own forearm. I've promised myself that I will respect each person I've killed in here by spilling my own blood as well. It gives me a sense of nobility and honor that would otherwise vanish in these games.

Two cannons fire and I have a chance to calm down and assess the situation. First I need to explore the other two pools and salvage what the other two tributes decided not to take. Then I'll figure out how to get out of this forsaken room.

"Tribute Mako," I hear the Claudius' voice boom through a speaker system, "Please step onto your platform for transportation."

Transportation? Where am I being transported to? Maybe the platforms take us to different rooms of the facility- It'd sure make an interesting twist to the games, after all this is supposed to be a quell. They just never told us what the challenge of this quell is. I step onto my platform and am slowly lowered down, not into another room full of tributes, but back into the tube I entered before the games. I watch as my stylist slowly comes into view, a smile stretches from ear-to-ear across her face as she grabs me and gives me a tight hug.

"What's going on?" I ask her in shock.

"Leave your weapons here, and walk through that door over there," she responds, still not giving any indication of what this momentary reprieve is about.

I leave my backpacks with my knives on the table in front of me and walk towards the door. I cautiously push it open, and walk inside the bright lit-room.


	3. Chapter 3 - Eight Degrees of Separation

Chapter 3 – Eight Degrees of Separation

The second I walk through the door, I'm by two peacekeepers. They hold onto each of my arms and guide me into a clear tube. I ready myself to rise into another arena with more tributes to fight. I straighten my back again and I wait for the platform to begin its ascent. Instead I am met with a stream of red lasers, quickly flickering back and forth across my body.

"Examination Complete." I hear over a speaker in the room, "No sign of damage. All body systems functioning." The tube opens up, and as soon as it opens, the peacekeepers grab my arms again to lead me into another room. After half walking, half being shoved, through the doors, I face three glass walls. The door shuts as soon as I'm inside the room.

I sit on the floor of the room, waiting for something to happen. I looked around and realize that there were seven other glass chambers exactly like mine around the inside of this facility. Maybe they were putting tributes in them to release into a free-for-all death match in this room. Soon the door next to mine opens, and peacekeepers lead the girl from district 11 into the glass chamber. I remember her from training, vaguely though. As far as I can remember she was much better at the survival skills than most of the other tributes were. Everyone knew if she didn't go down in the initial fighting, that she'd be tough to take out. She looked me in the eyes. A shiver goes down my spine when I get a good look at my competitor from District 11. Her hands and mouth are covered in blood. She looks ferocious. She has a darker complexion than most of the other tributes this year, but there is no mistaking the red hue on her skin. I knew it was blood, and this girl's entire mouth was drying over with it. Her hair is in thick dreadlocks, banded back into a ponytail. She is admittedly scary, even to me. What could have happened to make her mouth bleed? Or is it even her blood at all?

The sounds of three more doors opening snap my attention away from the feral tribute from 11. More tributes walk into their glass chambers. The boy from district 2, Roman, was next to me. He must have slipped through the cracks of the volunteer system they have in place in District 2, because he is one of the smallest tributes this year, and he didn't do much to impress anyone in training. On the other side of him the girl from district 3 lightly steps into her chamber. She glances at each of us, subtly wincing at the sight of the tribute from District 11, just as I did. Across the room from myself, the boy from District 5 is practically pushed into the room by the peacekeepers. Each of the other tributes looks to be in good shape, no major injuries. This worries me. If the gamemakers were going to set us loose on one another in this facility, the fact that none of us have any scratches is concerning, to say the least. It means the people watching are going to be in for a good brawl.

Two more doors open around the room. Layla, the girl from District 2 walked in, just as petite and prissy as ever. Nothing was going to break her feminine confidence. I wonder how she managed to get past two other tributes though. In training, the only thing she was good at was setting traps and intellectual skills. I don't think she could have had enough time to set up a trap. Either way, she's here, and she is trying to do the exact thing we all are: win.

Magnus, the tribute that caused Aqua and myself some anxiety walks into one of the glass chambers. His eyes determined, examining the entire room, as well as the other tributes. He has a tear in his jacket, but otherwise he is free of any injuries. This catches my eye quickly. I look at the other tributes and examine each of them more closely. We are all wearing different clothes. I am still in my tank top and diving shorts, barefoot. Magnus has a thick jacket and jeans fitted over a pair of thick boots. The clothing couldn't have been district specific, because the girl from 12 and the boy from 8 both wore the same thing I did when we came into the arena.

I'm so busy observing the differences between each person's clothing that I barely noticed the last chamber door open. With graceful footsteps and curious eyes, she steps inside the chamber and the doors close behind her. I was so glad to see Aqua. I smile and look her way, just before realizing exactly what this means. I have to fight her in this brawl as well. I can't help but look down in shame and fear. I don't want to hurt Aqua. Who could want to hurt Aqua? She is the innocent, naïve archer from my district who always helps anyone who needs it. I can't do it. I can't kill Aqua and return to District 4. I'd be too ashamed to look at anyone!

As soon as Aqua's door closes, the other tributes adjust their footing. We all must be suspecting that the glass walls will slide into the ground and that we'll be set loose on each other, to continue the games. The last thing we expect is for President Snow to descend into the middle of the room.

"Congratulations, Tributes," Tributes. Why is he congratulating us if we were still tributes? "You've survived the first round. Eight impressive fights. Eight tributes moving on to the next round of the games. Now, you will be transported back to the Capitol. For one week, you will be back in the training facility, until your next match."

"Excuse me, sir," the girl from district 11 interrupts, still covered in blood, "just what do you mean by our 'next match?'"

"Ahh, yes. A good question Aza." That was the only time I ever heard her name, or paid attention enough to remember it. "This year, the gamemakers have decided to take a different route, in an attempt to add entertainment, and drama, to the games. This year's Quarter Quell will be fought in tournament style arena matches. The winners of each match will move on to fight in another round, and so on. Now you will be taken back to the Capitol and given your room assignments. Your next matches will be in one week. The competitor you will be fighting is directly across the room. Get some rest, tributes. Train hard- and may the odds be ever in your favor."

As quickly as he came into the room, he left. A sigh of relief escapes me. Partially because I'm still alive and the Quell is enabling me to stay alive, at least for another week. But mostly because now I don't have to worry about harming Aqua. I hear other tributes let out similar sighs. It registers in my mind that President Snow told us exactly who we need to worry about. I look across the room to see who my next opponent will be. The boy from District 5. I'm not sure of his name. All I know is that he just killed two other tributes, just like I had. He is just as dangerous as anyone else left in the games. I have to keep training as soon as I get back into the Capitol if I'm going to beat him, and everyone else.

The peacekeepers come back in and escort us to the hovercraft that will take us back into the training facility. Once we are on the roof, we are given cards with floor numbers on them. One by one, we step into the elevator, without revealing our number. About halfway through the tributes list, I step onto the floor of the elevator. I'm headed to floor number five, according to my card. The elevator swiftly comes to a stop and the doors open. In an unobservant blur, I rapidly step into the room and am met with a sharp pain in my nose from a full-speed collision with my new roommate, knocking both of us to the floor.

I look over. I can feel the color flushing out of my face. _No. Please no. Anyone but you.._


	4. Chapter 4 - Alterations

I sit up in my bed, curtained off from the other tributes. Our surgeries are finished. I'm not sure what the doctor's finally decided to do to me. They had an extensive list of possibilities, but I was not able to look at it before they snatched it away. I can hear the other tributes groggily awaken in their beds too. I stand up, sliding my curtain away to reveal a circular table with eight chairs surrounding it. I take a seat, and soon the other tributes come walking out as well.

Aza, the frightening tribute from District 11, steps forward and takes the seat to my left. I look at her and I can see her eyes immediately shoot down to my neck. In a half-panic, I place my hands on the sides of my throat. Only I don't feel my throat anymore. I feel rigid slits of hardened skin instead. I look back at her and as she's mouthing the word gills, I notice her topical adjustments as well. Across her face and arms, she has black stripes. They stand out well, even on her dark complexion, and they make her look even more intimidating than before. Admittedly, I'm terrified of her. We were given the opportunity to watch all of the matches on playback when we returned to the training center, and her footage scared me the most. My style of fighting is precise and thorough. Her's, the polar opposite, is outright savage and powerful.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a hulking figure walking towards the table. He double takes as he sees the alterations that have been done to Aza and myself. He sits across from me, eyeing my neck. His face appears to be clear of any surgical procedure. I can't notice anything different no matter how hard I try to look. Did they just ignore him because he looks intimidating enough? Or did they not want to mess up his perfectly proportioned face?

"Where's yours?" Aza asks, as she glares at Magnus, probably looking for his abnormality just like I am. He stands up and turns around. He slowly lifts the back of his shirt. The muscles on his back flex; they look amazing in the bright light of the room. A shiver runs on my spine. His shirt is pulled up higher and Aza gasps at the same time I do. If I remember correctly, the process is known as scarification. The surgeons have cut away pieces of the skin on his back to emulate ribs going down his spine and out towards his sides. It looks painful, not that he's showing any hint of it. Aza and I glance at each other with a look that I can only describe as jealousy. He'd gotten off easy compared to us. He can hide it from the world, unlike us. Our alterations, to please these people in the capitol, will be worn for the rest of our lives - as short as they may possibly be in the games.

As he lowers his shirt, more tributes begin to walk towards the table. A couple have eyes that mimic the eyes of a cat. Their pupils transformed into slits running down their iris. Another tribute steps out and we all immediately notice his change. He sits at the table and his new, pointed cheekbones catch the light, making his face seem leaner and more intimidating.

I expected Aqua to walk out with gills, just like me. I couldn't think of many other things they could do to her. To my surprise, she steps out from behind her curtain, and her arms have been morphed. She now has blue tinted fins running up the sides of her forearms. As much as I hate that the Capitol is changing our look, I have to say, Aqua looks stunning, and the blue really brings out her eyes. She sits down to my right. Knowing she can touch me, instead of grabbing my hand, like usual, she reaches directly for the gills. When she touches them she giggles a little. I turn to her, and for the first time since we've arrived in the Capitol, a genuine smile crosses my face. Not that fake smirk I've been forcing myself to do, for the citizens here.

President Snow walks into the room from a long corridor. "I hope you like your new looks, Tributes," he says, as if our opinion matters to him or anyone else in the Capitol. "The Gamemakers have decided to allow the audience of the games, more specifically the sponsors, to vote on how they wish to alter your looks. You all look spectacular. Please head back to the training center and meet up with your mentors for today's group training." And with that, he walks right back down the corridor that he came in through.

Today is the final day of training before we go into our games. As we walk into the training room, I notice that everyone is attempting to be more and more intimidating, especially with their new looks. There are no gamemakers in the room to watch over us. Only trainers line the center, at their respective stations. Aqua leads me over to the ranged weapon training station. To our surprise, Magnus follows. Spears have their own station, and they are the only ranged weapon he is trained in. He's ignored the knives, axes, and bows up until now, so it's a little weird that he would choose today to start working with those weapons.

I step up to the knives, but he quickly grabs the set I was looking at. Without looking at the trainer, he turns around and steps right in front of me. He hands me a knife and stares right into my eyes. I do my best to stop myself from showing any signs of fear, but in all honestly, he terrifies me, and having him glare into my eyes with knives in his hand does not help that.

"Can you teach me how to throw?" He mumbles. It's obvious he doesn't want any other tributes to hear. His eyes form a look of embarrassment, rather than the steady gaze they were just in. He is avoiding eye contact now, looking anywhere else but at me. "Y'know, it's really not as easy as it looks, and I've never taught anyone before," I reply. Glancing over at Aqua, she looks confused, I can see she's questioning Magnus' actions just as much as I am. "Please? I'm against the girl from District 3 tomorrow. She's fast, and her sponsors have given her a permanent-gift." His groveling only makes me question him even more. "Why do you need my help? You're the biggest tribute here, and you can easily take people out," his eyes lower to the ground again, "Besides, I really can't teach you how to throw in less than one day." That was a lie. I had taught junior trainees to throw in less than an hour. But Aqua's eyes tell me that I shouldn't be helping out other tributes, and she was right.

His eyes slowly rise up from the ground, glancing back and forth around my body, almost like he's surveying a map, or planning where he wants to shove one of those knives. I take a step back, repositioning my own knife, just in case. He glares at me again, not breaking eye contact this time. I can see rage building up in his eyes. I can only assume that, because of his size, not many people turn him down when he asks for favors. He walks towards the station and powerfully heaves both knives at the targets. One flies past the target, which was expected. The other leaves Aqua and myself wide-eyed. He hit the target, just barely, but the way the blade is positioned has us fearful. The blade is pointing right at us, and the rubber handle of the knife has lodged itself into the target. His throw was so recklessly powerful that it still stuck.

Aqua and I are broken out of our stares of shock by the head trainer, informing us that it's time to go back to our apartments for dinner. So, with one last hug, and a good luck before the games tomorrow, Aqua and I walk into our separate elevators and head up to the rooms. She enters her elevator next to Layla, another career tribute from District 2, and myself, right next to the person I had denied a knife throwing lesson to.


End file.
